Jesus Take the Wheel
by Cageyspice
Summary: Lafayette and Jesus return from a trip to the desert. Ever been trapped in a car with a leaky medium? It's Jesus' first time too.


**Disclaimer: All rights belong to the wonderful and inspiring Charlaine Harris and to Alan Ball. **

**A/N: I meant to write this for the _I Write the Songs_ contest…only it had been a while since I'd read the rules and I didn't realize that it was supposed to be anonymous and I tweeted that I was going to write about this song. So here it is, just for the fun of it. **

**I loved the idea of the title for this fic, but I just couldn't get it going. Thanks to Northman Maille and Moxiemo for all the great ideas, and thanks as always to NM for her eagle-eye beta skills. xo Cagey**

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"And if you and your sexy-ass Brujo crazy demon shit hadn't gotten me involved in this, I wouldn't be sittin' here trying not to channel every Tom, Dick and Harry ass who misses their grandbabies and wants to talk to the livin'."

Lafayette's rant hadn't let up during the entire drive from the desert back to Bon Temps. But, despite their best efforts, Lafayette and Jesus' grandfather had been unable to shut down his psychic channel, and so it was on to plan B. Plan B was making Lafayette very cranky.

"Baby, think of it like a faucet. You can turn it on and off. You have to build up those muscles, and I know it's tiring, but it takes practice. Like kegels…for your brain."

"Brain kegels? Brain kegels." Lafayette leveled Jesus with a look that told him he was not going to humor any of this for one more second.

Jesus braced himself for a verbal onslaught.

"So I'm a leaky fuckin' faucet now? Me. Lafayette Reynolds. Dick for hire to the fuckin' elite of closeted men of power. Lafayette the fuckin' legend of longevity and control. Lafayette who doesn't spill 'til I've had my fill. This Lafayette?" he asked jabbing a finger at his own chest. "I'm a Leaky. Fuckin'. Faucet?"

"Not where it counts, Baby. You know that. I know that. God, do I know that." Jesus ran his hand suggestively up Lafayette's thigh, hoping to distract him from his current tirade.

A sharp gasp made Jesus jump and his hands flew up to protect himself from an unexpected volley of slaps assaulting his face and neck. "Stop, Lafayette! Steer the damn car!" he yelled as the new Ferrari fishtailed all over the road.

A look of shocked and affronted disbelief crossed Lafayette's face and a high-pitched voice emanated from him. "You do _not_ touch a lady's thigh and then have the audacity, the cheek, the _gall_ to tell her to stop when she protects her virtue. You...you cad!"

"Pardon me, Madam," said Jesus contritely. "I mistook you for someone else."

"Well," she said with an air of disdain, "I can't say as I care for the company you keep."

"Whoa," said Jesus, gripping the door handle. "Steer! Steer the car."

The car righted itself and the lady's voice tittered. "I have never driven an automobile. This is delightful, even if you are a rake."

The car accelerated alarmingly and Jesus found himself pressing his foot into the floor as if applying brakes that were not there.

"Uh, my apologies, Madam. Every man hopes to meet a…um…proper lady such as yourself," he said, thinking fast.

Lafayette's large fist landed a surprisingly expert left hook on Jesus' nose.

A burst of pain shot between Jesus' eyes. "Gah!" he exclaimed, wiping blood from his upper lip.

"Who the hell are you calling a 'proper lady'?" said a gruff voice with a thick Brooklyn accent. "D'you really want to take on a boxing champion, boy? You've either got a lot of balls or a death wish."

Jesus' head was spinning. Lafayette had channeled a lot of belligerent spirits but he had never been confined to a car in the middle of nowhere when it was happening. Staying calm and talking his way out of it, until Lafayette regained control of the homophobic boxer, looked like the best strategy. _If I survive it_, he thought wryly, as he touched the bridge of his nose. "I'm…I'm sorry, I thought you were, uh, someone else."

"A lady?"

"Well, yeah, well, actually, my boyfriend, but also—"

A jab connected with the side of Jesus' head and stars filtered through his vision. He was relieved the car limited the boxer to a one-arm attack.

"Your Boyfriend?"

A fast approaching tree caught Jesus' attention and he screamed at the boxer, "We're about to crash! Keep your eyes on the road."

Lafayette swung his head back towards the windshield and the car swerved back into its own lane.

With the boxer's attention momentarily off him, Jesus swiftly opened the glove compartment and extracted the phone Eric had placed in there in case Lafayette ever needed any V-related roadside assistance.

"What you got there?" growled the boxer.

Jesus hit speed-dial and the line connected immediately. "This is Eric Northman," said the vampire's smooth voice.

The phone was snatched from Jesus' hand as he yelled, "Help! Lafayette is possessed!"

"They called me The Bonecrusher," said the boxer. "I think a demonstration is—" before he could finish, Lafayette was airlifted out of the convertible, and was now hovering about six feet above it, keeping pace.

"Jesus, take the wheel," crooned Eric. Then he and Lafayette were lost to the night sky.

"I can't drive stick!"

"That's not what I hear," said a voice on the wind.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to Northwoman for running this year's IWTS contest!**


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